


Bound

by Livikun



Series: Bound and Tethered [1]
Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood drinking (and licking), M/M, Sensuality, Slow Build, mental bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 05:03:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livikun/pseuds/Livikun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slightly AU, Major Canon Divergence; All vampires are warned of the taboo of drinking lycanthrope blood. The sharing of blood between a vampire and werewolf, however, is something Mitchell and George cannot  even comprehend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound

**Author's Note:**

> I have no clue where I'm going with this, so please bear with me. I just started typing and this popped out. I really want to do this fandom and these characters justice, so if you do see something that makes no sense, please let me know~
> 
> EDIT: That horrible moment when I don't have a beta...spruced it up and added a while new section to the first chapter. I hope it's a bit more readable this time around! 
> 
> AU where werewolf blood is not toxic to vampires, but vampires run a risk by drinking it because they...well, that'd be spoiling it a bit. 
> 
> This is my first Being Human fic that I've posted anywhere!

He smelled the wolf before he saw him.

The sharp scent of pomegranates and musk cut through the cold December air and smoke, breaking John Mitchell out of his reverie. He blinked twice, put out his cigarette with a practiced flick, and glanced up at the cloudy sky. There wasn't a full moon out tonight, so why would there be a werewolf out in the open? He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, and concentrating on where the scent lead. Padding through the freshly fallen snow, Mitchell allowed the smell to lead him.

When he opened his eyes, Mitchell was in an abandoned lot. Three of his kind were kicking at a crumpled figure on the snow covered ground. Mitchell recognized at least two of them as hunters from Herrick's coven.

He resisted the urge to sigh; this was last thing he wanted to be doing tonight. 

"Enough!" Mitchell shouted, the command enough to stop the vampires cold. The three of them turned towards him, their eyes going wide when they recognized him. Mitchell the Bloody, attack dog of Herrick, a vampire that would slaughter anything or anyone if his sire gave the word. The vampires moved away from the figure, baring their necks in submission. Mitchell was more concerned with the werewolf.

The werewolf was a bit...different than he expected. Actually, he didn't even look like a werewolf at all. All wide eyes and defenseless features. Dear Lord, what kind of people were the Alphas converting nowadays? He looked ready to pass out, his face a mass of bruises and cuts. The rest of him hadn't been spared from the beating and there was a decent amount of blood that stained the snow around him. No wonder Mitchell could smell him from so far off.

"Who thought it was a good idea to take on a dog?" he asked coolly.

"He was asking for it," one of them began, but a flat-black glare from Mitchell made him stop.

"If Herrick knew that you were dallying yourselves with a werewolf instead of hunting, you'd be piles of ash on the ground." He moved closer to the little group, black eyes trained on the werewolf. Slowly, he lowered himself down to the werewolf's level, taking in those too wide blue eyes, closed his own eyes, and inhaled sharply.

The blood smelled warm, far too warm even on a cold night like tonight. It was fresh and smelled sweeter than he had first thought. Now that he was closer, Mitchell found himself physically drawn to it, moving himself closer to the werewolf's cheek. He inhaled the aroma again, so very tempted to move down a few inches and just sink his teeth into the little wolf's neck. He reigned himself in for a moment and remembered his audience. He opened his eyes.

"Leave us," he growled, "and I'll make sure Herrick doesn't hear of this."

The other vampires made no affirmation that they heard him, but Mitchell could feel them begin to move away. When he was sure they were gone, he lowered himself over the wolf until the other creature was prone underneath him. He smiled widely as the color drained from the werewolf's face, making sure to flash his fangs. Lifting one hand to tenderly stroke one of the wolf's swollen eyes, he bent down and, mindful of the bruising, rested his cheek on the werewolf's so that his mouth was next to the other creature's ear.

"A little wolf like you should know better than to be this vulnerable to others," Mitchell whispered, breath ghosting over the werewolf's bruised skin, "But now, I'm going to ask you to bare your neck for me and not to call out. If you do, I'll be sure that you never make it out of this lot. Do you understand?"

The werewolf opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a few rasped breaths. He settled on a small nod and, to Mitchell's surprise, actually bared his neck to the vampire. Something inside Mitchell knew there was something wrong about all this, but he hadn't fed in weeks and it wasn't like he was going to be biting into the little wolf; ever sire taught their coven that drinking directly from a werewolf was forbidden. A small taste, that was all this was; not enough to get him completely full, but just enough that Herrick would be pleased. Too much blood went straight to his head and Mitchell wanted to get back to his coven without any unnecessary incidents. He let his instincts take over and lapped at the werewolf's bloody cheek. 

The werewolf's heart was in overdrive and Mitchell fought to keep his composure. He could scent the fear radiating from the body beneath him as he licked up the blood that had splattered along the werewolf's neck. The cuts on his skin were thin and not deep enough to cause much scarring, but the blood wasn't going be liquid for long. Waste not, want not, as Herrick always said.

The blood itself was just as good as it smelled. Beneath the sweetness of pomegranate was a sharp, almost sour taste that left Mitchell's mouth watering. The wolf was doing such a good job of keeping still and Mitchell wondered if just a small nip would be enough to make the poor thing bleed a little more. Before the thought left his mind, Mitchell realized how far gone he was. He needed to leave. Lifting his head a bit higher, he breathed hotly into the werewolf's ear.

You'll have tonight to get the fuck out of the city. Whatever happens tomorrow or after is your problem. Do you understand?"

The werewolf continued to stare at him with wide eyes, letting out a small squeak and nodding his head. Mitchell slowly lifted himself off the other and stood up, tempted to take a bit of the bloody snow with him as a snack for the road.

"Don't expect mercy from me again."

He gave the wolf one last look before he turned and walked away, imagining that his heart might have stuttered a short beat as he licked the last of the blood off his lips.

)()()()(

George Sands had wanted so many things over the past few months. He wanted to be able to eat meat without being nauseated by the smell when he tried to cook it. He wanted to make an excuse to stay home on the night of the full moon not because of the Change, but because he wanted to watch a movie or finish up a book he was reading. Even with the Change, he just wanted to be able to live as much of a normal life as possible, without drawing undue attention onto himself.

He'd fucked that dream up without even doing anything.

It was a cold night, but he had insisted that it was still alright to walk back to his flat after his shift at the hospital. Apparently that had been where he'd screwed up; he should have taken Nina's offer for a ride. 

The next thing he remembered was something hitting him on the back of the head and then an eternity of pain. The three men never spoke during the attack. George thought that this was the end; this was how he was going to die. Not by a hunter on the full moon, just a random beating that he could have easily avoided if he went in the damn car.

And then it stopped and George, sweetly and naively, hoped that the newcomer was his savior. The completely black stare that he got was not was he was expecting.

George wasn't stupid; he read up on every variation of the werewolf myth that he could in order to understand what he could do to prevent himself from killing anyone. Of course, he'd stumbled across legends about other mythological creatures as well, but never gave them much thought. What were the odds of running into a ghost or a vampire on a dark and gloomy night?

And yet, here he was, straddled by a vampire (he guessed; the teeth were a dead giveaway), the other three gone with just one glare, and letting said vampire lick at his wounds. George wanted to scream and just run as far away, but with those teeth grazing his neck every few seconds, his body kept still. 

After another eternity, it was over and the vampire growled something that George couldn't really comprehend. Too much stress from the day and the shock of the attack and now this vampire wanted him to just up and leave? Before he could even get a word out, the vampire gave him one final warning and vanished, leaving nothing but the faint scent of cigarette smoke. 

George counted to ten and pushed himself up so that he was sitting. His heartbeat roared in his ears and black dots and sparks clouded his vision. As he fell backward onto the ground, George felt his heart skip a beat; whether from the attack or his heart probably starting to fail, he had no clue.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been awhile since I've written something like this...dear goodness...  
> I have a few headcannons that I've associated with this series, so, if something doesn't make much sense, I'll explain my thoughts.  
> This is the first part of a series, so be on the lookout for more chapters soon! Comments and critiques are most welcome!


End file.
